


Living Together

by PlayingGambit



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingGambit/pseuds/PlayingGambit
Summary: When Philip and Trevor start living together, Philip is forced to confront the hallucinations of alternate timelines. One in particular it seems, is specifically designed to ruin his life. Trevor tries to make Philip meditate to ground him in the here and now.
Relationships: Trevor Holden | Traveler 0115/Philip Pearson | Traveler 3326
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	Living Together

“Listen, I’m all for MacLaren staying vegan while we’re here, doing his part and all, but I’m not about to give up meat now that I’ve had it and I know how precious it is.” Philip declared loudly from his spot on the car seats in the main room of their hideout. “Besides, as far as I can tell, this body craves it. Bad.”  
“I’m not saying we should give up meat, I like it too. I’m just saying you should try this!” He brought the hotdog in its paper tray over from the kitchen and sat down heavily next to Philip in the open seat. “It’s a new food cart and I think we should support it and see how it tastes!”  
“What is in a vegan hotdog anyway? How do they make it look like that?” Philip asks, lifting the tofu weenie and inspecting it. “This isn’t the soy sauce one is it?”  
“Philip please.” Trevor knocked his knee against Philips. “Stop critiquing the food and just try it.”  
“Whatever.” He took a breath and bit into the hotdog. It didn’t taste awful. But it was definitely a blend of soy sauce and ketchup that made him uncomfortable.  
“What do you think?” Trevor asked enthusiastically.  
Philip forced himself to chew and swallow. “Not bad.” He lied.  
“See? Gotta try new things, man.” Trevor told him, smiling wide. He took a bite of his own hotdog excitedly. Slowing down as he chewed. He nodded and swallowed. “That was bad.” He said quietly.  
Philip nodded. “Sorry, man.”  
Trevor stood up. “Let’s go get real hotdogs.”  
“It’s raining, Trev.”  
“All the better! C’mon man, how often did we get to feel rain before?”  
Philip shrugged, but he agreed. It was something he couldn't argue against.  
“Besides, the carts always have umbrellas so the food won’t be soggy.”  
“Alright.” Philip relented.  
“Wear your least favorite shoes!” Trevor shouted as he headed to his space to get a jacket.  
“I only have the one pair.”

The rain dripping onto his skin felt nice. It wasn’t cold out so he didn’t have to worry about getting sick. If anything, it felt a little stuffy. It was warmer than usual. He regretted wearing a jacket as he shuffled along behind Trevor.  
Trevor noticed he was lagging behind and slowed to keep pace. “Not excited?”  
“To be walking around in stuffy rain? Not so much, Trev.”  
“It’s not that bad when you think about it.”  
“ _It _being the past?”  
“Future.”  
“Whatever.”  
“Yeah.” He nudged Philip with his shoulder. “Oh look, it’s still open.”  
“The rain isn’t hard enough to scare him away yet.”  
“Lucky for us.” Trevor smiled.  
“Yeah.” Philip gave him a smile back. “Lucky.”  
Whatever meat they used for street dogs was a luxury Philip refused to give up, no matter how many speeches MacLaren gave him. If he was going to have to be here, suffering with the mind and body of a heroin addict, he would at least allow himself the personal gift of meat.  
He sighed.  
“Is that a good sigh?” Trevor asked between bites.  
“Yeah, man.” Philip nodded without opening his eyes, taking another bite and another deep breath. “Really good.”  
Trevor smiled, finishing off his own hotdog. “Any plans for later today?”  
Philip shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything from Grant so I assume we’re good on missions. And my next foray to the horse races isn’t for another week.”  
“Cool. We should meditate in the garden.” Trevor smiled, tossing his hotdog's paper tray into the trashcan and walking back out into the rain to head to their hideout.  
Philip stuffed the rest of his hotdog in his mouth before disposing of his trash and running after Trevor. “It’s still raining, dude! And it’s… it’s not really a garden. It’s just a side yard.”  
“It’ll be a garden soon enough. For now it has bench seating and that’s all we need!”__

__

__“Breathe in through your nose for 5 seconds … and then out through your mouth. Feel the drops as they hit your skin. Listen to the sound they make against the tin roof. The rhythmic metallic plinking.”  
“Plinking isn’t a word.”  
“It’s an onomatopoeia, Philip. Focus on the sound.”  
They sat cross-legged on the bench in the side yard, having changed into shorts and tank tops to reduce the water weight they would have to sustain.  
Philip breathed in and out slowly, not counting his breath but matching it to Trevors.  
“Can you hear it drip from the roof onto the trees? The soft patter against the leaves?”  
Philip listened but all he could hear was the tin roof. He shook his head as a fat droplet landed too harshly on his closed eyelid. “Not really.”  
“That’s because you aren’t focusing hard enough.” Philip cracked open one of his eyes. Trevor looked so calm. Sitting across from him on the bench, their knees were less than a foot apart. “Close your eyes and focus.”  
“They _are _closed.”  
“Meditation time is not the time for lying.”  
Philip squared his jaw and shut his eyes. He focused on Trevor’s breathing.  
“Listen to the sound of the rain. The way the wind picks up. Hear the leaves brush against each other.”  
Philip listened to Trevor’s deep, even breathing. He heard the cracks in his settling voice. It was funny. The oldest person on their team, one of the oldest people practically ever, was in the youngest body. He had so much energy all the damn time and he still found ways to meditate. He found ways to appreciate the life they had now.  
Marcy told him depression was a side effect of his situation. Maybe that was why he couldn’t appreciate things like Trevor could. Maybe he was depressed.  
“Focus, Philip.”  
“Sorry.”  
“You’ve got a lot on your mind.” Trevor told him. “It’s very loud.” He followed up, when Philip opened an eye to stare at him again.  
“I know you’re old, but you couldn’t possibly have learned to read minds, even with all that time.”  
Trevor cracked a soft smile, keeping his eyes closed. He took a deep breath, that Philip copied, and spoke softly. “I don’t have to read your mind. You have a very expressive face.”  
He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t even looked at my face.”  
Trevor opened his eyes. It was sudden enough that Philip startled. “I don’t have to be looking at you to know you, Philip. We’re teammates. And roommates.”  
Philip looked away, focusing on a trickle of water between the pebbles in the side yard.  
“And friends, I hope.” Trevor continued, leaning forward, trying to get Philip’s attention back.  
“Yeah, of course.” He muttered, shaking his head and sitting up how they had been. He shifted in his seat and closed his eyes again.  
Trevor watched him set back up and then did the same, going back into his deep breathing. He knew Philip wasn’t counting on his own so he led him as best he could.  
“I don’t know everything that goes on in your mind but I know there’s a lot going on in there. You have to remember everything. You have to deal with addiction and withdrawal. And now there’s an extra thing. Something you refuse to tell us.” Trevor spoke gently. He spoke softly, the way you do to a stray animal to get it to come close to you.  
“I told you I-”  
“Yeah, I know. It’s Historian business. Not for me to know.” He took a deliberate breath to bring Philip back into it. “I’m just saying. If anyone can gain something from meditation, it would be you. Now feel the rain on your skin. How’s it feel?”  
“Soft. Wet.”  
“What else do you feel?”  
“The air is smothering. It’s hot.” He followed Trevor’s breath. “But it’s fresh. It’s … nice.”  
Trevor smiled, Philip could hear it in his voice as he continued. “Count the seconds as you breathe. Listen to the rain as you do. Feel it on your skin.”  
Philip listened to Trevor breathe, holding it in with him, letting it out when he did. He bounced his leg anxiously. He couldn’t sit still for so long. Not like this. If he had a mission, a string of encrypted numbers to follow, he could sit at his desk for days at a time. But like this? Even five minutes was too long.  
He opened his eyes quickly when he felt a hand on his knee. “Settle down, Philip.”  
“Sorry.” He muttered. Trevor’s hand was warm. Warmer than the temperature outside. “Uh. How much longer do we have? I’m worried we’ll get sick sitting out here so long.”  
Trevor smiled, moved his hand back. He took another deliberate breath that Philip followed on instinct. “Two more minutes.”___ _

____ _ _

____Having Trevor around was nice. It broke up his monotony. Poppy was supposed to be that for him but turns out a turtle wasn’t as time consuming as, say, a dog would’ve been. For the better, probably. If he had to take care of a dog, it most likely wouldn’t have worked out, like Ray said.  
Trevor knew how to cook a little bit. Not properly, not like how food was supposed to be cooked, but he knew enough to make a passable meal. Something Philip actually didn’t mind eating.  
He kept the place clean, having too much energy to ever sit still if he wasn’t meditating. Maybe that’s why he meditated. Maybe it gave him a chance to stop. Forced him to slow down.  
The only thing Trevor didn’t do was take care of Poppy. He let Philip do that. Not because he didn’t like Poppy, but because the one morning he actually fed her, Philip seemed _off _all day. He figured it was better for his recovery to keep a routine, and if that routine included taking care of another living thing, all the better for it.  
Trevor started work in the yard, like he threatened to do the first time. He cleaned up the trash and old fence pieces and loose parts he found. He moved rocks around and bought some things.  
“Can you believe that you actually have to pay for rocks?” He asked Philip as he walked up the driveway with a bag of garden pebbles.  
“Why did you buy rocks? We have rocks.” Philip watched him with tired eyes.  
“Not enough. Wanna help?” He dropped the bag in front of the fence to the backyard.  
“Not really.”  
Trevor unlocked the gate and swung it open, lifting the bag again. “Come on, man. I could use an extra pair of hands. Help an old man out.”  
“Shut up with that old man routine. Your body’s much healthier than mine.”  
“Okay well it’s your yard too, so help me out. I’ll let you skip meditation today if you help me.” He promised.  
Philip was up on his feet in seconds. “Right. Extra pair of hands, at your service.”  
“I didn’t want to disrupt the flow of this yard. It has rocks already, and the bench, which is nice. But it felt a little bare. I thought we could add more pebbles here, around the bench. We could assist the growth of grass from this side to the back. I was thinking, like a bird bath right there. Something with a flowing water mechanism so it wouldn’t be stagnant and we could have the running water sound for meditation.”  
Philip tied his hair back into a ponytail. “You sure got this all planned out.”  
“Of course.” He pointed to the bench. “If you could move that. Anywhere off the rocks is fine. Do we have a rake?”  
“No.” Philip grunted, carrying the bench to the driveway. “Not many leaves here.”  
“Not for leaves. To help spread the pebbles out.” He shrugged. “We can do it by hand, it’ll just be slower.”  
Trevor ripped the bag open and dumped the rocks out, trying to spread them so it wouldn’t be one big pile. “Just an even cover of this side is good.” He got on his knees carefully and started to spread the pebbles around. “Oh, should I have bought something to block the bottom of the fence?”  
“I wouldn’t know.” Philip answered, following Trevor’s movements, still unsure of what he wanted.  
“We’ll see next time it rains, I guess.” He muttered. “Cover that area more. It’s the dirt underneath that I’m trying to hide. Make it a little more decorated.”  
“Because pebbles are decoration?”  
“More so than dirt.”  
Philip nodded. “Of course.”  
It took them the better part of the week to finish the side yard. Trevor stopped calling it a garden and took to calling it the meditation area. The part that took the longest was refinishing the bench. He had sanded it down to make it smooth, got rid of the old paint. He stained it, weatherproofing it so it wouldn’t warp again. He replaced the nails on it, hitting himself once or twice with the hammer.  
“I don’t get why you used a hammer. We own a nail gun.” Philip told him over dinner that night, passing a bandaid across the bar to Trevor. They ordered pizza since Trevor’s hands hurt too much to make food. “Also sanding it by hand? We own a belt sander!”  
“I think I fared pretty well.” He wrapped the bandage around his finger and flinched when he felt another wound. “One more, Philip?”  
Philip rolled his eyes and got another bandaid from the kit. “Is it a cut or another splinter?”  
Trevor hissed. “Splinter.”  
“Okay wait, let me see it.” Philip got the tweezers out and took Trevor’s hand. He tucked his hair behind his ear. “It’s in too deep. You didn’t feel this one earlier?”  
“I cut my palm on the nail, everything else just kinda blended in with that.” Trevor admitted.  
“Well you got two options. I can either dig with the tweezers, or I can just cut it open slightly.” He leaned back, letting Trevor inspect it.  
“Or the third option, I let it stay and do it’s thing. I think it’s in too deep to mess with.” He flexed his hand and couldn’t stop his frown as he hissed again. It was right in his palm below his thumb. He would feel it whenever he did literally anything.  
“Tweezers it is!” Philip reached for Trevor’s hand.  
He yanked it back. “Uh, actually, I’d rather you cut it. I’ve seen Carly dig for a splinter on the boss before. Didn’t look pleasant.”  
“It’s not.” Philip says, going for his stash of scalpel heads. He takes out a new one and doesn’t bother looking for the handle. “Cutting is much quicker, and actually less painful.”  
Trevor let out a nervous laugh. “Uh huh.”  
“What? Don’t tell me you have a scalpel thing in addition to your needle thing?”  
“It’s kind of a general ‘invasive objects' thing.” He muttered.  
“Don’t look then.” He pulled up a stool to sit in front of Trevor. “Give me your hand.”  
Trevor looked away, focusing on the microwave as he held his hand out to Philip. “Go easy on me.”  
“Of course.” He grabbed Trevor’s hand and held it down on the counter. “What’s your favorite pizza place? Of the places we’ve ordered from since we’ve been here. Do you have preferred toppings yet?”  
“I know what you’re doing, Philip.”  
“Then answer me. I’m partial to mushrooms and jalapeno peppers.” He held Trevor’s hand loosely, balanced his hand with the scalpel lightly on the edge of Trevor’s palm.  
“Uh, I like Spark Pizza, actually. It’s fresher.” He paused, feeling the tip of the scalpel on his skin. Philip paused too.  
“Favorite topping, Trev.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I like the garlic and basil leaf. The one with the tomato chunks? That one’s actually pretty good. Garlic crust is good too. No waste on a pizza with garlic crust.”  
“I’m partial to the cart three blocks down. It’s nice to walk to.” Philip spoke casually, keeping his tone light as he cut very carefully at the skin just over the splinter.  
Trevor huffed a bit of a laugh.  
“What?”  
“Just hearing that you like walking somewhere.”  
“Listen, just because I don’t love running and forcing my heartrate up like you do, doesn’t mean I don't appreciate the finer things in life.” A brisk walk to a nice pizza cart was always welcome in Philip’s book. “And I’m done. Get your bandaid and eat your pizza before it goes cold.”  
Trevor turned back to Philip, who was releasing his hand and sitting back on the stool. Sure enough, the splinter was out. He flexed his hand and grinned. It felt better.  
“It’s just a flesh wound. It doesn’t hurt if you don’t go deep enough to draw blood. It’s less than a paper cut.” Philip rambled, turning back to his pizza. He still wasn’t used to Trevor’s casual happiness. His sunshine smiles.  
Trevor clapped him on the back with a laugh. “Thank you.”  
“No problem.”___ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“I don’t see why you didn’t buy more comfortable chairs when you bought all the other things for the meditation area.” Philip complained, adjusting his legs under him as he sat across from Trevor on the newly refinished bench.  
“It’s comfortable enough.” Trevor answered. They were sitting close again. Knees almost touching. “Get in place and stop fidgeting. Close your eyes.”  
“Count my breathing. Focus on the wind. I know, I know.” He rolled his eyes quickly before shutting them and anxiously placing his hands on his knees.  
They were in shorts and tank tops again. It was hotter out today because it wasn’t raining, but it felt just as stuffy. Washington always smelled like rain, even when it wasn’t actively raining. At least they didn’t have the sun shining down on them too, it was mostly cloudy.  
“At least focus on the running water. I spent so much time on that birdbath.” Trevor said softly.  
“You filled it with a hose and set up the solar panels. The reviews say a 6 year old can put it together.”  
“Well I’m not a 6 year old.”  
“You’ve made much more advanced mechanisms with way less instruction.”  
“Close your eyes. I’m not starting the time until you do.”  
“They’re closed.” Philip relented. He sat up straighter and tapped his fingers anxiously against his knees. He bit his lip, running his tongue over it afterwards.  
“Settle.” Trevor whispered. “How are your hallucinations?”  
“How did you-”  
“Way back when we took that stabilizer for the neurotoxin, you mentioned that you dealt with hallucinations all the time. I suspect it hasn’t gotten better.”  
“It’s been… less so, now that we aren’t regularly running missions. But yeah, they still happen.” He followed Trevor’s breathing.  
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asked softly.  
“During meditation?” Philip asked, a mocking tone to his voice.  
“Some people find talking about it helps, but I can lead the meditation if you’d rather not.”  
“I’d rather not.”  
Trevor nodded, Philip’s eyes were still closed. “Breathe in through your nose… and out through your mouth. Listen to the water. It’s nice. Almost like a professional set it up.”  
“Trev.”  
He could hear a smile as Trevor continued. “Let the sound lead your mind. Push me to the background and focus on the water. Breathe.”  
Philip could hear the soft breaks in Trevor’s voice. He focused and matched their breaths.  
“Philip.”  
He opened his eyes as he felt Trevor’s hands on his. He had been tapping his knees again.  
“I can hold them if it’ll help keep you still.” He offered.  
Philip shook his head, biting at his lip again. “You can try.” He forced his shoulders to relax and nodded, closing his eyes again. With his hands occupied, he immediately wanted to start bouncing his knees but he knew not to.  
“Focus on your breathing.” Trevor started again.  
Now it was worse. Philip didn’t know it could be worse but now it was. He felt the heat from Trevor’s hands leaking into his. Were his hands that hot? Could Trevor feel that?  
Trevor was saying something but Philip was focused on breathing. He had to focus.  
Philip seemed more keyed up than usual. Trevor could feel him tense, even through the soft connection of their hands. He was holding the backs of Philip's hands. He shifted his hands to be able to press his thumbs into Philip’s palms. He followed up with calm words but he could practically hear Philip grinding his teeth.  
He opened his eyes, breathing soft and deliberate to guide Philip. Philip’s eyes were closed but he flexed his jaw, scrunched his brows together. He was anything but calm.  
Trevor closed his eyes again.  
“Focus on the pressure.”  
“The what?”  
“The pressure.” Trevor said, pressing down on Philip’s palms again. “Focus on the circles I’m drawing. Don’t let your mind wander.”  
Philip let out a huff and hoped Trevor wouldn’t realize it was a laugh.  
“Slow circles. Circulation. Blood flowing. Even breathing.”  
Blood sure was flowing. Philip could feel himself getting hot. His face was heating up. He gently pulled his hands out of Trevor’s and opened his eyes.  
“It’s too hot out here. I’m going inside.” He said quietly. He got up before Trevor could argue with him and went around the front, closing the gate behind him.  
“Sure thing.” Trevor said quietly to himself._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“The hallucinations are picking up again, aren’t they?” Trevor asked one night. It was out of nowhere. They had been eating dinner. Nothing happened.  
“Why do you ask?” Philip questioned, he took a bite of his burger absentmindedly.  
“You’ve been staring at the counter for the past 5 minutes.” Trevor told him. “Seemed pretty interesting, you forgot you were eating.”  
Philip shook his head, pushed his hair out of his face. “It’s nothing.” How could he say it was an alternate timeline of them? How could he tell Trevor that alternate them have been blatantly flirting at the counter since he came home with food?  
“It’s gotta be something.” Trevor pushed. “You’re not one to normally ignore food when it’s right in your lap.”  
Philip looked up hesitantly and breathed a grateful sigh when he saw their alternates were gone. “Really, it’s not a- _dammit! _Come on!” When he turned to Trevor, he saw more alternate selves on the floor behind him. “What the fuck!?”  
Trevor nodded. “It’s not ‘nothing’.” He turned to look behind him, obviously not seeing what Philip saw.  
“It’s…” He turned away. “I’m dealing with it.”  
“You don’t have to deal with it alone.”  
He laughed. “Clearly I’m not.”  
“What does that mean? What are you seeing?” Trevor leaned forward, urging Philip to trust him enough to let him in.  
Philip shook his head. “It’s not real, so let’s eat.”  
“It’s real to you, isn’t it?” He asked, sitting back in his seat.  
When he glanced back that was all it took. He could see it perfectly in his head. He could feel it on his skin. He could hear Trevor’s voice in his ear.  
He turned away again, face scrunched up as he tried to push it to the back of his brain so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.  
“Yeah. It’s real enough.” He muttered. “Uh, I’m not hungry. I’ll eat later.” He got up quickly, leaving the room and hoping beyond his luck that he would be safe from alternate timelines in his own bedroom.  
“Come on, man! You know it’s not as good when you reheat it!”___ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The hallucinations didn’t go away. Not even two weeks later. Sometimes he really wished he had kept some of those Historian pills, not enough to call the number, but sometimes. He also found himself wishing for a mission. Anything to get him out of the garage where alternate him and alternate Trevor seemed to live like newlyweds.  
He watched, at lunch time, as Trevor grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door.  
“Trevor please, I’m too tired to run today.” He said. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night. And neither had Trevor, he was pissed at the younger boy's energy levels.  
“It’s supposed to rain anyway, I thought today we’d just meditate.” Trevor answered. Philip was surprised to hear his voice coming from the kitchen and not the doorway. He looked over and saw Trevor arranging some veggies for lunch. Looking back to the door, he saw their alternates were already gone. He found himself wondering if they would be okay in the rain.  
“Meditation sounds good.” Philip replied absently.  
“Oh, does it?” Trevor grinned. “Am I finally getting to you?” He finished the lunch and brought two bowls over, handing one to Philip and sitting across from him on the concrete floor.  
“Whatever.” Philip rolled his eyes, grabbing the fork in his bowl. Shooting off a “Thanks babe” before digging in.  
Trevor paused midbite. “Pardon?”  
“Just because I’d rather sit with my eyes closed than run and sweat and be all gross, does not mean you’re getting to me.”  
Trevor waited a second but Philip didn’t seem to notice, he kept eating. Maybe he had misheard him.  
Trevor took a bite of his own food. He sighed. “Isn’t it amazing how a little oil and salt can completely transform a vegetable?”  
Philip laughed, shaking his head. “Why are you still so easily awed?”  
“Over time, you learn not to take things for granted.”  
“Like each other, I know.”  
“Like what?”  
“Each other. You’ve given me this speech before.” Philip stated. He paused when he looked over at Trevor and saw the confused look on his face. “I mean-”  
“How many of me are here right now?” Trevor asked seriously.  
Philip swallowed, shook his head. “Just you. You already… other you… we went running.”  
“Why would we-”  
“You like the rain.”  
“But you don’t.”  
Philip smiled humorlessly at the bowl of food in his hands. “I do. I just haven’t told you in this timeline.”  
Trevor huffed quietly. “Why would you keep that a secret from me?”  
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But it did cause an interesting alternate.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Philip was so tired. He had been watching alternate them for almost a month. He barely slept at night because apparently, his room wasn’t just for him anymore. He could feel the phantom touches on his skin. Hands in his hair.  
He was so tired.  
“Nothing. We can go over it during meditation. I’ll try and let you ground me in the here and now.”  
Trevor nodded. “I’ll need some answers to do that.”  
“I’ll give you some.” He lied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Can you, uh, can you just keep me stable?”  
“You want me to hold your hands?” Trevor asked carefully.  
“Yeah, uh… yes. If you don’t mind.”  
“Not at all.” He reached out and held Philip’s hands in his the way he did before, pressing his thumbs into the center of Philip’s palms. “Okay, so focus on your breathing still, but help me guide you here. Let me know what you’ve been seeing so I can verify what’s real.”  
Philip frowned. He couldn’t do that. Could he? Trevor trusted him. Trevor knew him in ways no one else did.  
No… Alternate them. That was the other them.  
Trevor breathed a little louder, making sure Philip followed suit.  
“Can you just tell me what we did this morning?” Philip asked softly. His eyebrows were scrunched together already. They had barely started.  
“You promised me answers.” He reminded Philip, pressing hard into his palms.  
“I will. Please.” Phillip kept his eyes closed, if anything, he pressed them tighter shut. Trevor could see him biting his lip.  
“Yeah, sure.” He sat up straighter and closed his eyes, switching over to his meditating voice. “I woke up today at 6:30. I did a quick workout. You woke up at 7:30 and told me to shut up. I made breakfast at 9:00 and you woke up again, much more amicable.”  
Philip nodded. Forced himself to breathe evenly like Trevor. He remembered that. But he also remembered being up at 7:00 _with _Trevor. Because Trevor was an early riser in every meaning of the phrase.  
“What did we eat?” His fingers twitched. Trevor pressed light circles around the inside of his palms.  
“Waffles. I cut up some fruit, made you a smoothie. But your favorite part was the freezer waffles that you cook in the toaster.”  
Philip could hear Trevor’s smile and it made him smile. In the alternate, they had meal bars. Something quick because they were both starving.  
“Better than a meal bar.” He muttered.  
“That what you had in the other timeline?” Trevor prodded gently.  
Philip hummed. “We both did.”  
“In a rush?”  
“Starving. Couldn't wait.”  
“Can’t believe I’d sleep in, even in another reality.”  
“You didn’t. We were…” Trevor could hear him clench his teeth. He opened his eyes, Philip’s jaw was set. He was biting again.  
“We were what?” Trevor asked softly. Maybe something bad had happened. Maybe they had another mission in this alternate time.  
“What happened next?” Philip forced himself to relax.  
Trevor looked him over quickly before continuing. “Carly called. You made her a new playlist.”  
Philip loosened his jaw. Good to know Carly was nearly the same, no matter the timeline.  
He hummed in agreement. “I remember that.” Only he had two sets of that. One memory where they sat side by side, Trevor’s hand on his back, under his shirt, resting his head on Philip's shoulder. And another where they were close but Trevor was sitting on the table next to the laptop instead, swinging his legs like a kid.  
“I was at the computer. And you were…” Philip pushed gently.  
“With you. Sitting on the table.”  
He nodded. Trevor could see the set in his jaw.  
“And then?”  
Trevor decided to try something. “Then I told you we should go jogging.”  
Philip shook his head. “It’s supposed to rain later.”  
“You like the rain.” Philip could hear the even tempo in Trevor’s voice. He shook his head again. He could feel the strain in his throat, his heart rate picking up as he jogged alongside Trevor, who thankfully slowed down to keep pace with him. He hated that Trevor could still speak like normal when he was dying.  
“What time are we supposed to get back home?” Philip asked.  
His hands went loose. Trevor could feel the weight of them on his own.  
“We’re just doing a lap.”  
Philip snorted. “Yeah, one lap. That’s why we took the long route. I know your games.”  
“It’ll be over before you know it.”  
“If we get caught in the rain and I get sick, I’m taking you down with me.”  
“How would you go about that?” Trevor responded, lighthearted, joking.  
“Like this.”  
It was easy. It was practically muscle memory. Philip slotting his mouth against Trevor’s was like stepping in place, pressing his feet into the earth where he had already left an indent. He leaned into Trevor like he was a support beam. And in a way, he was.  
Not was. Could have. He could have been. Because _his _Trevor wasn't like this. _His Trevor _wasn't his.  
Philip opened his eyes, leaning back slowly so as not to startle Trevor further.  
Trevor was looking at him. Not surprised, exactly. But he was gripping Philip's hands like they were a lifeline. He hadn’t pulled away.  
Philip tried to hide a smile. Trevor could only cover up so much emotion and while his face was even and careful, Philip could feel the tension in his hands.  
"We didn't go running." Philip stated quietly. "You didn't know I liked the rain."  
"We got together in the other timeline." Trevor said quietly, nodding. It was a question, but one he answered himself.  
Philip set his jaw again, nodding.  
He tried to slide his hands out of Trevor's but he wouldn't let go.  
"C'mon man, this is bad enough already. At least let me walk away."  
Trevor shook his head. "Explain to me. I want to know what you've been going through. Should be easier now that I already know the biggest outlying factor."  
Philip could feel his stomach turn. A simple kiss wasn't the biggest factor.  
He tried once more to slide his hands out but Trevor wasn't having it. "That night when you zoned out for 5 minutes. What were we doing in the kitchen?"  
Philip huffed out a laugh. At least that one was easier. "Blatant flirting. You were making dinner and I was watching and then we started joking and that led to a lot of flirting. It was just conversation. Banter. But obviously… romantic."  
"Was that the first time?"  
Philip’s skin prickled at the question. No. The first time was a week later in Philip's room. But that's not what Trevor was asking.  
“No. But it was the longest conversation I saw. And the more I watched, the more I remembered. That’s why I was staring for so long. I was trying to figure out what happened.”  
“Is that the only timeline?” His voice was quiet, softer than his usual meditation voice.  
Philip shook his head. “That’s the one where we get together, it’s…” He flexed his jaw a bit before setting it again. No use backing down now. “It’s the loudest alternate. It’s the better alternate.”  
“Better?”  
Philip nodded, he decided a while back he didn't care about Historian protocols anymore. “There’s a timeline where you die. I’m moping around the garage, Carly and Marcy stop by regularly to make sure I’m okay. There’s a timeline where Carly kills Jeff. We try to cover it up but he’s a cop. They put her in prison. There’s nothing we can do. It drives Mac insane. He’s not himself.” He closes his eyes, breathes deep. “There’s one where David dies. Marcy’s a wreck. She doesn’t live here but she might as well because she’s always on the couch. Then when she’s up, she’s really mean. She loses her ability to love, loses faith in the Plan and the Director because it didn’t save him. There’s a timeline where me and Carly get together. We get coffee after a mission, and it goes from there… It didn’t last long and it didn’t end well. Every time I saw her I panicked. Every time I saw Mac I thought he was going to kill me.”  
His eyes are clenched shut and his hands are shaking but Trevor is still holding onto him. He nods even though Philip can’t see him.  
“So the alternate where we’re together is the better one to focus on?” He asks softly.  
“Jesus, dude.” Philip pulls again, Trevor refuses to let go. “Yes. It’s… softer. It’s easier to focus on.”  
“What are we? How did it happen?”  
Philip hesitates, he remembers all the conversations that never happened. The outings that led to the relationship. The serious conversation Trevor had with him about his late wife and how he loved her and still did, but this love he had for Philip was still love. It was different and had another feeling to it, but it was still love.  
He shrugged. “It’s platonic. We’re together for convenience more than anything.”  
“Convenience.” Trevor didn’t sound convinced.  
“You said it before, your young body is almost always in a state of hyperarousal. And me… I’m easy. Any form of physical activity that means I don’t have to go run.”  
He cracked an eye open to assess the situation since Trevor didn’t say anything. He wasn’t looking at Philip, he was looking down at the rocks they had spread. He was thinking it over.  
“Did we fix up the yard in that timeline?”  
“It’s a garden.”  
“Son of a bitch, I knew I should have planted a garden.” Trevor muttered.  
“Is… Is meditation time over?”  
“No.” Trevor answered, looking up at him. “Because you’re still lying to me.”  
Philip gaped at him. There was no pretense anymore, neither of them were meditating, they were both just sitting cross legged on a bench, holding hands.  
“You really did plant a garden, Trevor. I’m not bullshitting you.”  
“Not about that. About the platonic part.” Trevor pressed his thumbs into Philip’s palms harder to make his point. “I don’t do things for ‘convenience’. If I did, I would have slept with Rene, my host’s girlfriend. Hell, even Grace probably. Convenience is not something that makes sense to me in any timeline.” He shook his head. “Why do you think I meditate so much?”  
Philip was floored. “You meditate when you’re horny?”  
Trevor rolled his eyes. “It’s not the only reason, but yes.”  
That made sense. When Philip actually thought about it, it made a lot of sense. Alternate Trevor went on more runs and workouts. He meditated a lot less than this one. He was just too stupid to put the pieces together.  
“Close your eyes.” Trevor told him, getting back into a proper meditation pose.  
Philip was unsure. He still wanted to leave. He was getting sweaty. The clouds came in, blocking out the sun completely, but the heat was still there.  
“Philip.” Trevor pressed.  
Philip took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Okay.”  
“Take a deep breath. Hold it… Let it out.” He guided Philip a few more times, and then let his own breathing be the guide.  
“Now answer me. To your knowledge, what was the starting point for our relationship?”  
“Trevor.”  
“I’m part of this relationship, Philip. I deserve to know.”  
Philip wasn’t sure that made sense. But he squared his shoulders and breathed a few more times deliberately before he answered. “It was the day we got hotdogs and came home to meditate in the rain. You asked me how it felt. I said soft and wet. You asked what else I felt. In the alternate, I told you it was nice. It felt cleansing. Healing. That was the start of it.”  
“I fell for you.” Trevor stated.  
Philip opened his eyes. Trevor was looking at him, openly curious. It was such a soft look it almost pained Philip to look back at him.  
“Why would you think that?” He asked, frowning. It wasn’t true. Philip was the one who fell. He fell for Trevor’s unbridled love of nature. His casual joy and happiness. He fell for Trevor’s sunshine.  
“Because it’s happening now.”  
Philip closed his eyes, shook his head. “Trevor.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Am I present? Am I listening to the right timeline right now?”  
“If it’s the one where I told you I was falling for you, then yeah.”  
He opened his eyes, staring down into his lap, unsure of what he could trust right now.  
He felt pressure on his hands. He looked up. Trevor was watching him carefully.  
“Maybe it would help to keep your eyes open. So you can see the here and now.” Trevor said gently. Philip nodded. “Can you feel my hands?” He pressed his thumbs against Philip’s palms. Philip nodded. “Can you hear the water fountain? The bird bath.” Philip hummed a yes. “Are there any plants in this yard?” Philip looked down, around at the pebbles that surrounded them. It’s funny, he remembered Trevor buying a bag of dirt, disparaging over having to _buy _dirt. He remembered the feeling of it under his nails. But there were no plants here. Philip shook his head. “What do you see?”  
“Rocks. Specifically, pebbles. That you hated having to spend money on.”  
Trevor nodded. “Good. You’re present. So I’ll repeat myself. I fell for you in that alternate timeline, the same way I’m falling for you now.”  
Philip looked up at him from his focus point on the pebbles. “You didn’t fall for me then, I fell for you.”  
Trevor smiled. “Maybe it was both.”  
“Maybe…”  
“Maybe it _is _both.”  
“Maybe.” He paused. “Trevor, I don’t understand.” He got Trevor in one timeline. It didn’t make sense that he would get him in two.  
“Yeah you do.”  
Philip could feel the rain start to fall. He could hear it hitting the tin roof and he didn't flinch as it started to land on his skin.  
In two timelines, he and Trevor leaned towards each other and shared a soft, quiet moment in the rain.___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken liberties with their hideout. Pretty sure they didn't have enough room for a sideyard. But I gave them one anyway. Philip needs fresh air and Trevor needs a good spot to meditate that doesn't smell like computer fans working on overdrive.


End file.
